Hot Water and Warm Touches
by ArianaXaia
Summary: It was Valentine's Day, a day dedicated to the celebration of love. But for Yuuri, it was spent waiting for his turn in the shower. Fluff. Happy Valentine's Day!


**A/N: My gift to hoemoghost on Tumblr for the YOI Secret Valentines 2017.**

oOo .

The sounds of water pattering against ceramic echoed throughout the large, dark apartment. Plates and Wine glasses sat in the dish drainer, having been recently washed. Two bouquets of roses, blue and red sat in a crystal vase. Candles flickered, almost stubs, some threatening to flicker out after a long night of continuous burning.

The TV was playing; currently on some Russian sports channel playing reruns of a football game. Yuuri had long ago given up trying to figure out how to turn on the subtitles, or trying to find a channel guide. Makkachin sat lazily on the sofa next to him, tail slowly moving from side to side at a constant rate.

Yuuri groaned, rubbing his eyes as he changed the channel yet again, this time to a channel playing some strange soap opera. He turned off the television. _Dammit Victor_.

When he came to St. Petersburg to move in with the older figure skater, he did not agree to the long-ass showers that his fiancé took every single night. At least it's not one of his baths this time. As terribly long as his showers took, his baths were a force to be reckoned with. It was a wonder that their hot water bill was as low as it was with how much water the silver-haired Russian used alone.

Yuuri opened up Instagram; curious about how is friends were all spending their Valentine's Days. Phichit was spending the night watching the King and the Skater and the King and the Skater 2 with his hamsters. Yurio had posted a picture of himself eating katsudon Pirozhki with his grandpa.

Chris' had taken his choreographer/boyfriend on a date to a nice restaurant in Switzerland. _Wait until he sees what I have planned afterwards… ;D._ He had a sneaking suspicion that those plans probably involved limited clothing, and a pole. How that man could deal with Chris' antics, he would have no idea.

He continued scrolling through his feed, but eventually, even that became boring. He looked down at Makkachin, the poodle was fast asleep. "What do you think I should do, Makka?" he whispered, mostly to himself. He closed his eyes, the white noise of the shower still thrumming away in the background.

His eyes snapped open. He smirked. _Hmm_ …

. oOo .

Victor stood under the water, letting the steady hammering of heated water wash over him. Tonight had been wonderful; he and Yuuri had stayed at home and had a nice candlelit dinner of katsudon, chocolate, and wine. Victor had bought Yuuri a bouquet of flowers only to find that the younger Japanese man had bought him a bouquet of blue, like those he had received after winning gold at the Grand Prix Final when he was 17. It had been a nice quiet night, and certainly his best Valentine's Day yet.

The previous years of valentine's Days had been spent practicing his routines for the World Championships; sometimes he would change up the monotony with an occasional one-night stand but never anything that lasted. Last year he had spent Valentine's Day dreaming hopelessly about the cute Japanese boy who got drunk and swept him off his feet at the Grand Prix Final Banquet.

He closed his eyes smiling softly; to think that just a year later, he would be spending his Valentine's Day and be engaged to that very same Japanese boy.

He was shaken from his thoughts when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. He could feel him pressing up against him. Warm kisses moved across his left shoulder and up his neck. He turned his head to better see his unexpected visitor.

"What did I do to warrant this?" He asked, bemusedly.

"I got tired of waiting for my turn in the shower."

He let out a laugh; yeah, maybe his showers were a little bit longer than they should be. Victor turned around to face the shorter man. He took his hand in his own larger one, and kissed his fingers delicately.

Yuuri moved his free hand up to Victor's scalp, running his hand through his dripping wet hair. He leaned into his hand, closing his eyes as his lover's fingers trailed through his hair. "Victor…"

"Hm…?" He was losing himself in the gentleness of Yuuri's hand in his hair.

"You haven't washed your hair yet." Oops.

"I wasn't at that point yet–"

"Vitya, you've been in the shower for over an hour."

"Err…" Yuuri took his hands away from Victor's hair and scalp, reaching behind him. The Russian was confused and slightly disappointed until they came back with the bottle of shampoo. He poured a decent amount of the liquid into his hand then placed the bottle back in its place among the rest of the shower care items.

He rubbed his hands together and then brought his hands up to Victor's hair once more, massaging his scalp. He found he was losing himself in the actions of the black-haired beauty in front of him.

He reached out in front of him, grasping until his hands closed around the bottle he was searching for.

. oOo .

Yuuri paused in his activities when he felt the warm hands of the gold medalist in front of him in his hair.

"What are you doing?"

Victor chuckled, his laugh a mixture of silk and honey. "You said you wanted a shower didn't you?"

He sighed, allowing the 27 year-old to work his fingers, gently, through his hair. He relished the touch, momentarily forgetting that just moments before, he too had been shampooing his fiancé's hair.

They stood there for a long time, fingers entangled in one another's hair.

They stepped closer together, so that the water from the showerhead could hit them both, washing away the lather that had built up. Their bodies were pressed up against one another; there was hardly any space between the two men. Yuuri stood up on his toes; their mouths were just centimeters apart.

Victor leaned down and closed the gap, pressing his lips against the Japanese man's softly, sweetly. Yuuri reached back and turned off the water, steam filling the air around them. He stared up at his lover, and his lover stared back at him; their eyes communicating without need of words.

One way or another they ended up in their bedroom.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Vitya."

"Happy Valentine's Day, lyubov moya."

. oOo .


End file.
